


Of Motel Rooms and FaceTime Talks

by theindiarussianqueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Coming Out, Episode: s12e08 LOTUS, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mary Ships It, Sam Ships It, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theindiarussianqueen/pseuds/theindiarussianqueen
Summary: "Dean shook his head because Cas still wasn’t picking up on it. He still didn’t get that Dean cared for him, despite what he’d done, despite the fact that Dean had been hurt before, despite the fact that they were both in uncharted territory, wading waters that they’d never known. While Cas was inexperienced in the whole concept of relationships, guys were a mystery to Dean."Or, the one where Dean meets Cas at a motel to talk (among other things).





	

**Author's Note:**

> A reworking of my previous fic "Never Let Go," which I was a bit unsatisfied with. This fic has undergone multiple revisions to change fandoms, time frame, from AU to canon, as well as tense and POV. So, if there are mistakes I apologize but hopefully that will give you something to attribute it to! Thanks for reading!

Castiel exited the motel room upon hearing the Impala pull into the lot, joining Dean in sitting on the car and watching him eat dinner out of a greasy fast food bag. Dean hadn’t had a chance to eat before he’d left the bunker, sneaking out with a note left for Sam saying he’d be out for the night, and not to expect him home. He didn’t need his little brother asking questions.

Once he’d finished eating, he’d laid down beside Castiel, staring up at the starless sky peeking through the trees together. Soon enough, however, he was begging Cas to go inside. It was getting cold out, and Cas, being an angel, was unfazed. However, Dean had foregone the many layers he usually wore out of lack of focus, only able to think about the little rendezvous with Cas later that night. Castiel complied easily with the request, leading Dean into the motel room. Dean noted that it was a king size bed he was being led toward. Thinking back, there weren’t enough cars in the lot for there to be a shortage of two-queen rooms.  


Mind occupied with thoughts of Cas’s intentions, Dean took a moment to register that Castiel was looking directly at him from his seat at the foot of the bed. Dean blushed slightly, a red tinge to his cheeks as he glanced at his shoes. Wordlessly, Cas invited Dean to sit beside him. Given how much was still left unsaid between them, Dean decided that the offer couldn’t be refused.  


Dean opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Logically, he knew that they needed to talk about all that had happened recently, to tell Cas that the bunker with the brothers was his home. Castiel had to know that he was a part of the family. Dean thought about the _thing_ that had loomed over the two of them for so long. He knew now that he wasn’t imagining it. Castiel invited him here, and when he did, Dean could almost hear his blush over the phone. Since Castiel had rented a room with only one bed, Dean could only assume that Castiel had high hopes for the night.  


Cas was sitting far too close. That shouldn't have bothered Dean, because Cas had little concept of personal space, something he’d come to accept and embrace long ago. This time, though, there was something that made Dean nervous. This time, he was positive that Cas had figured out that there was something between them. For someone as generally clueless as Cas, that was pretty big. Dean knew he shouldn't be afraid of that, because Cas was always on his mind, and he couldn't do anything about it unless Cas knew, and _holy shit, this was complicated._  


The look in Dean’s eyes was one he was sure Cas had seen many times before. It was a look of longing, because he wanted Castiel so badly. Dean’s lips parted and he could feel the mild, dull ache of his eyes dilating. He should have done this forever ago, and he wished he could just grow a pair to act on his feelings. But he didn’t want to push Castiel’s boundaries. Cas had been through a lot recently, what with being possessed by Lucifer and feeling responsible for his release from the Cage. Cas wouldn’t even talk about it, save for blaming himself. As much as Dean hated talking about feelings, he wanted to beg Cas to talk to him for once.  


And _dear God_ , he was staring at Dean with those shining eyes, his slightly chapped lips parted, and Dean couldn't help but think about his own lips pressed up against them.  


Dean watched in rapture as Castiel captured his lower lip between slightly crooked teeth in an uncharacteristic move. He couldn’t help but think about how much he wished he could do that. His eyes left Cas’s and chose his mouth as a focal point.

 _Fuck talking,_ Dean’s brain - or maybe it was that thing in his chest that, by some miracle, was still beating - decided. _We’ve got time._  


His hand found the back of Cas’s neck and lingered there for a moment, giving him a final chance to back out, but when Cas gave no indication that he wanted to stop, Dean surrendered to the temptation and finally captured his lips with Dean's own.  


The slight whimper Cas let out was unexpected and so was the hand that he placed carefully on Dean’s chest over his heart - not pulling him closer, but not pushing him away, either. Dean did, in fact, end up catching Cas’s lip between his teeth, causing the angel to let out a gasp, his other hand migrating upward to tangle in Dean’s hair.  


It wasn’t the first kiss they’d shared; the first happened the day Cas and Mary broke the brothers out of that high-security prison. After stunning every Secret Service agent in the entire building and wiping their memories, Castiel had stormed through the place and tore down the doors to Sam’s cell, then Dean’s. Once Dean had held his brother, then his mom, he’d turned to Castiel, who Dean knew was the strategic mind behind the prison break, and pressed their lips together. Then, it was desperate and adrenaline-fueled, uncaring that Dean’s mother and Sam stood three feet away. This kiss had them both both shy and nervous, and it showed in the hesitant presses of lips.  


Although the moment Dean realized how much he cared for Cas was the moment in that prison cell that he thought he might never get a chance to say goodbye, he realized then that it was possible for that feeling to grow exponentially. It was something that Dean, bitter and disbelieving, never considered. Cas had opened his eyes to a lot of things, changed the way he saw the world, and he thought that maybe he’d been made into a believer. Cas’s hand was on the collar of Dean’s shirt before he could realize that he needed to slow down. Dean pulled away from him slightly and whispered his name, only to have Cas cut him off with murmurs of, "Why’d you stop?” And while his intention was not necessarily to stop, he did want to take this a little slower, however reassuring the encouragement may be.  


Cas pulled him back in and Dean melted against him again for a few breathtaking moments before pulling away once more. Cas nearly pouted in frustration, but Dean ignored his protests and continued,  


"I don’t wanna take advantage here.”  


Cas looked surprised, pulling away a little further with a questioning look.  


"Look, Cas," Dean began. “You’re going through some tough crap. I know you feel responsible for what happened with Lucifer and Kelly and the whole… prison thing.” Castiel flinched almost imperceptibly at each of the mentions, which only caused Dean to pull away more, terrified of what mental state his friend might be in. “I need to know that you aren’t just doing this because it’s what I want, or because you need a distraction.”  


The angel had enough nerve in him to roll his eyes and bring Dean back into a kiss, but the hunter pulled away once more, causing Cas to sigh and stare down at his hands.  


"Dean," he started, voice lower and more gravelly than usual, "this is what I want. Honestly. I just didn’t know it was what you wanted, not until you kissed me in that prison. I know what I’ve done, and for you to even consider putting that aside is… more than I could ask. Letting Lucifer out of the Cage, allowing him to impregnate a human woman, being distracted enough to allow you and Sam to be captured and then failing to break you out for more than six weeks-”  


“Dammit, Cas,” Dean murmured. “None of that matters. You had the best of intentions, and you did everything you could to fix what mistakes you may have made. Sam and I don’t blame you for anything. You had more balls than either of us, sacrificing yourself to help save the world. And you did everything you could to find us. You got us out, and that's all that matters. There’s nothing to forgive.”  


“Dean-”  


Dean shook his head because Cas still wasn’t picking up on it. He still didn’t get that Dean cared for him, despite what he’d done, despite the fact that Dean had been hurt before, despite the fact that they were both in uncharted territory, wading waters that they’d never known. While Cas was inexperienced in the whole concept of relationships, guys were a mystery to Dean.  


So Dean took Cas’s face into his hands, cradling it like he did in that prison.  


“Don’t you ever…” Dean’s voice cracked with emotion, and he wanted to hit himself because it was such a chick-flick moment. He pulled himself back together and try again because it was something Cas needed to hear. “Don’t you ever think that I wouldn’t want you. I’m always going to. That’s not gonna change.”  


Dean considered leaving so that Cas could process all that had gone down so quickly, but he placed one hand on Dean’s knee, nodding, as if he could read Dean’s mind through his eyes. Castiel whispered, voice dripping with innocence and something that sounded a lot like fear,  


“Stay?”  


Cas didn't plan on kicking Dean out after this, and _thank God_ because he didn't think he could handle that rejection. He reached his thumb up to gently smooth away the apprehension from his eyes, and leaned in a little, admitting,  


“I’m scared, too.”  


Dean pushed the collar of his cheap white button-up out of the way and didn’t delay before placing his lips gently on Cas’s neck. Cas’s hand was tugging at Dean’s shirt collar again, and Dean let him pull his shirt up and over his head. Dean’s own hands migrated to Cas’s chest and for a brief moment Dean missed the signature backwards tie. Because as good as it had felt to be so domestically tying it many years ago, Dean couldn’t help but think that it’d feel a whole hell of a lot better to be removing it. With that, Dean’s lips left their exploration of Cas’s neck to find his mouth again.  


Dean soon found himself pushing Cas back further into the bed, articles of clothing - Dean cursed the number of layers Castiel wore on a daily basis- discarded as Dean went. By the time Cas was tugging off Dean’s jeans, having flipped them both to put on Dean on his back, Dean was too long gone to realize they hadn't even discussed what had changed between the two of them.

\---

They were lying with Dean’s head resting on Castiel’s chest, busy memorizing the beat of Cas’s heart, the rhythm of his breathing, the scent that clung to him. It was odd that Dean never knew that the angel’s heart beat, that he breathed, that he somehow smelled like cheap body wash and something purely masculine. Dean couldn't help but feel like something was all wrong with this scenario, however perfect he may have felt, his body pressed against Cas’s, nothing covering them but a stained motel bed sheet and a thin layer of sweat. Castiel didn’t sleep, so as much as Dean wanted to lie there and watch the candid calm that might have crossed the angel’s face, he could only lie there in silence, stroking his thumb across the other man’s stomach. The urge to reach out and touch his face was strong, but Dean was afraid that the movement might break the moment. So he left it to his other senses to take it in: the smooth texture of Cas’s skin as Dean clung to him; the lingering flavor of his lips and the way his skin tasted; the memory of the hushed whimpers and moans that escaped his mouth combined with the creaks of the springs in the shitty motel bed.

There was something entirely wrong about the way Dean felt. He had practically snuck out of the bunker to meet up, but a nagging insecurity in the back of his mind told him that this was something he couldn’t share with Sam. There was almost a sense of guilt somewhere in the cacophony of emotion bubbling up inside him, and maybe it was because _Cas deserved better than this_. Their first time deserved to happen back in the bunker on a memory foam bed with expensive sheets, smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes from happiness instead of fear. It deserved to be taken slow while they smiled and laughed and kissed each other just because they could, and not because they were both alive and well and together for once.  


It was the fact that Cas never told him what he felt that unnerves Dean. It was something that made his hands shake and frightening thoughts of Cas kicking him to the curb in the morning run through his mind. The thought that he could regret this nearly brought tears to Dean’s eyes. He'd respect whatever choice Cas made in the morning, or whenever, really, because Dean would rather Cas be happy than be with him. And given how much Dean wanted be with him, Dean really wanted Cas to be happy. He’d do a hell of a lot to see a smile light his face again.  


The image of that smile was the last thing that ran through Dean’s mind as he drifted off to sleep.

\---

Dean woke up to a cold and empty bed, and it hurt more than it should. He knew Cas couldn't have gone far - his duffel sat in an armchair by the television - but it still stung. Dean wasn’t much for romance or sentiment, but he'd hoped to wake up still tangled up with one another. Instead, he climbed from the bed, clothing himself in the shirt and jeans he’d discarded on the floor last night. Dean rounded the partition that separated the bedroom from the rest of the tiny room and found his way to the miniature kitchen. Cas was hovered over the pathetic stove, and as Dean looked he could see the other man making breakfast.

"Hey," Dean whispered, so very tempted to walk up behind Cas and wrap arms around his waist, pressing kisses to his neck. Dean used what was left of his restraint to keep himself from doing so. It wasn’t clear if being quite so domestic was allowed. Cas turned and smiled at Dean, filling him with a warmth that he didn't quite know he could feel. It felt so damn good to see Cas smile. His hair was ruffled in an adorable way and Dean noticed a mark beneath the collar of his shirt. A surge of pride overcame Dean as he realized, _I did that._ Every urge was screaming at Dean to kiss him, but Dean didn't know the rules of this thing that they had going. So he asked if Cas needed any help with the cooking, and when he declined, Dean walked to the motel room’s table to sit down and check his phone.  


It was past noon, Dean realized with a start, and he had a text from his mom and two from Sam. Both were just checking in, and Sam’s second one asked how Dean’s night out was. Dean rolled his eye at the winking emoji. He wrestled with how to reply, but finally decide that, _fuck it,_ Sam and Mom had already seen Dean kiss Cas, so they might as well know that they’re screwing. Pulling up FaceTime, Dean clicked Sam’s name and waited to see if he’d pick up. Finally, Sam answered, his scruffy and tired mug showing up on Dean’s phone. He was sitting in the bunker’s kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal, and smiled around a bite of Raisin Bran. He said his hellos, and Mary entered the frame with her own greetings, waving with the hand that wasn’t occupied by what appeared to be a blueberry muffin. Dean nearly snorted aloud at the realization that struck him; without him around, Sam and Mary were fending for themselves with food, which would explain why they were eating prepared breakfast items at lunchtime.  


“So, how was your night?” Sam asked smugly. Mary slapped his arm.  


“Better than yours,” Dean shot back.  


“Where’d you go? A bar? Or did you meet someone on that app you had? What was your username? _Impala67_?”  


As if on cue, Cas was walking toward Dean, placing a tray full of pancakes on the table. Dean almost got up to press a kiss to his cheek, but managed only a smile. Castiel smiled back.  


With the hand that wasn’t holding his phone, Dean beckoned Castiel over to join him, kicking the chair to his right out far enough for Cas to sit. As Cas’s face joined Dean’s on the screen, both Sam and Mary sat back in their chairs, shocked.  


“Oh,” Sam said, and Dean noticed his mom practically choking on her pastry. He couldn’t say their reaction was unexpected, but he’d already made out with his best friend - a guy, for Christ’s sake - in front of them. One would think that they already had some idea of what was going on. Cas greeted them both somewhat formally, inclining his head in a partial bow as he said his hellos. Sam let a smile turn up the corner of his mouth. Mary squinted in mild confusion, but finally shrugged in acceptance. Dean noticed there was still some apprehension in her eyes. He could practically hear the speech Sam was gonna give her about the changing social climate of the country, fluid sexuality, and the SCOTUS ruling on same-sex marriage from 2015.  


Dean explained that he drove up to Hastings, Nebraska to meet Castiel and work out a few things. Sam and Mary took that for exactly what they knew Dean meant, and Dean noticed a bit of hurt flash in Sam’s eyes. It was obvious that he was a bit upset that Dean didn’t tell him about what was going on between him and Castiel. However, Dean was pretty certain he knew that something was happening. He made a mental note to pull Sam aside and have a talk with him. Once the pair at the bunker accepted Dean’s explanation, the older brother pushed to move on from the subject, turning around to talk about hunting.  


The four of them began discussing some occurrences in Colorado Springs that might be their kind of thing. There was something about discussing demons and disappearances that made everything start feeling particularly normal again. The feeling made Dean so happy that he cast a grin at Cas, who smiled right back. When Dean turned back, he noticed Sam whispering something indecipherable in their mother’s ear. Her face sprouted a smirk, but neither of them said anything. Given, Dean realized with a start, that a hickey was sitting on the small expanse of skin where the top few buttons of Cas’s shirt were undone, he couldn't blame them for their thoughts. Which Dean was positive were probably something along the lines of _"they're fucking.”_  


Which they were. Sort of. Because if it was just a one-time thing, then that probably wasn't the right word for it. Dean didn't think he could handle being just a fling, or even having casual sex, because he wanted so much more than that. He was pretty positive that he was only the second person Cas had slept with, and the first guy, which was pretty significant.  


Cas was the one to ask Dean to stay. Dean hoped he didn’t mean just for the night.  


Dean paused momentarily to look at Cas and think about a possible future together: being able to kiss him just because Dean wanted to, waking up to him every day, living in the bunker together. Dean realized how openly he was staring and caught himself, turning back to Sam and Mary. They were grinning brightly at Dean, and Cas turned to look at him as as a dark red blush began to spread across his face. Cas bit his lip, which, Dean noticed, was still slightly swollen from kissing him so hard. The other two noticed Dean’s change in focus, and Sam gave a face that was a mix of disgust and amusement.  


“There are just some things I never needed to know,” Sam muttered. “But, hey, at least I won’t have to be the one to cut the unresolved sexual tension with a knife.”  


Dean’s best friend-slash-fuckbuddy-slash-possible-boyfriend (but he had no idea how it worked) just gave Dean a look. Dean thought he might be asking Dean whether they were a couple, but Dean wasn’t sure either, so he kept his mouth shut.  


“You’re okay with this, Sammy?” Dean inquired, a somewhat surprised tone lingering in the air with the question. “Seriously? I thought you’d be a little freaked out.”  


His little brother just shrugged.  


“You look happy,” he answered shortly.  


“Mom?”  


She let the corners of her mouth turn up slightly.  


“I haven't seen you smile as much in all the time I've known you as you have in the last fifteen minutes,” she told him. “And if Castiel is who is making you smile… I can't find a reason to complain.”

\---

It was decided that Sam and Mary would handle the issue in Colorado without them. None of them were certain of the extent of the problem, however, and since it was Sam’s first hunt since their jailbreak, Dean made him text Eileen to help them out in case he was rusty. It gave Sam reason to introduce his mother to the woman he'd been texting practically nonstop since they made it home.

The next few days came and passed without their return to the bunker, and Dean and Cas were still falling into bed together on a nightly basis. The nature of their relationship went undiscussed, however.  


One night, they were both only slightly drunk, watching a movie together. Dean kissed him hard on the mouth about a half hour before the film ended, and they proceeded to spend the rest of the night in a way that ended with the two of them waking the next morning to pounding headaches and aching muscles. Dean’s wrists had been handcuffed to the headboard, and neither had any recollection of the night before. They were never able to figure out where the handcuffs had come from.  


Those in the neighboring motel rooms wished they could say they remembered so little. Much like his concept of personal space, Cas’s ability to be quiet when drunk was nonexistent.  


After plenty of acetaminophen to dull the effects of their hangovers, and with the recognition that there was a world and more issues beyond their four walls, they started to pack up to leave. As much as Dean tried to convince Castiel to return to the bunker with him, Cas turned him down.  


“I need to find Kelly,” he explained. “That’s on me.”  


“I can help,” Dean insisted.  


Cas shook his head at that.  


“No. You’re needed on hunts with Sam and Mary, and I’m unsure how long it’ll take me to find her, or where this search will take me.”  


“She’s just a human,” Dean told him. “She can’t be that hard to find.”  


“You’d be surprised,” Castiel said with a smile. “I will come back, you know.”  


Dean conceded to him eventually, agreeing to let him go off on his own.  


“I won’t be far if you ever need me,” Dean whispered to him. Cas gave a curt nod because he already knew that. So Dean tried again. “I’m serious. If you need anything, if you ever get into any danger or want help or even if you get friggin’ lonely, give me a call. I’ll come running, okay?”  


His nod seemed more meaningful, but it was still aggravating.  


“God, would you say something?” Dean demanded suddenly.  


“What do you want me to say?” Cas inquired quietly. He wasn’t angry with Dean. He wasn’t disappointed, or even particularly sad. He looked numb, if Dean was honest with himself.  


“I don’t know,” Dean murmured. “Anything. Say goodbye. Tell me I can come with you. Tell me you’ll come back to the bunker with me. Hell, lie to me. Tell me you love me or something.”  


Cas laughed. He laughed like it was the most painful thing he’d ever had to do. It came out like a sob. Dean had never seen him cry, and the idea of it hurt.  


“That’s not a lie,” Cas admitted.  


Dean stared back at him like he was the 2014 version of Castiel that Zachariah showed Dean, like he was as crazy and stoned as he was then. Dean stared at him with fear and surprise and something that sounded a lot like what Cas has just confessed to. So Dean grabbed him in his arms and kissed him senseless. When they parted Dean breathlessly whispered,  


“You son of a bitch, I…” And although the words couldn’t seem to make their way past Dean’s lips, he knew that Cas understood. Somehow his understanding wasn’t enough; Dean needed to voice something. “I need you, Cas. I wish… God, I wish circumstances were different. I… I want…”  


Cas silenced Dean with another kiss, gentle this time, comforting, because he seemed to know how difficult this was for Dean to say.

“I know,” he insisted. And his voice spoke a million words Dean didn’t have the balls to say: _I really do wish circumstances were different. I wish we met as toddlers and grew up together and kissed in our tree house. I wish we were high school sweethearts, our only battles against teenage bullies when we showed up at prom together and had clunky, inexperienced sex in a hotel room that night_. “We will be okay. I promise.”  


Dean nodded, not for Cas’s benefit, but his own. With much effort, he pulled away, and gave a final squeeze to Cas’s hand. Cas walked Dean to the Impala waiting outside, and stood next to the driver’s side door.  


“I’ll see you soon,” Dean said. Cas laughed, and it seemed sincere for once.  


“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said, and gave a broad smile. “Go, Dean.”  


Dean placed a final kiss to his lips, and it felt strange, because their relationship had been confined to that motel room for so long. Out in the open, anyone could see them.  


“Call me, okay?” Dean requested, and Cas nodded. Dean brushed the knuckle of his index finger across Castiel’s cheek and down his jawline. “I’ll see you soon, Cas.”  


Dean let go, climbing into the Impala and smiling as it started up. As an afterthought, Dean rolled down the window.  


“Is this what it feels like to leave?” Dean queried. In his eyes, Dean saw that Cas knew he was referencing every time Cas had flown off for days or weeks at a time.  


“No,” he answered with a touch of remorse. “Not until I thought about staying.”  


Dean smiled in spite of himself.  


“Someday, Cas,” Dean heard himself saying, “someday we’re both just gonna stay.”  


Cas didn’t answer, and Dean eased the Impala into drive. He watched Cas in the rearview mirror until all he could see in the distance was the open road.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! All feedback is appreciated!


End file.
